


Journals

by NescientAtaraxy



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Blackrom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 21:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1793215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NescientAtaraxy/pseuds/NescientAtaraxy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I have read your journals, human. I know that you love Zim too. And you like to hit Zim.”</p><p>“Zim, hitting has nothing to do with love,”</p><p>“Ehn?” Zim was confused, dumbfounded. “Of course it does! You speak lies, LIES!”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Journals

Dib knew a lot about his arch-rival. The papers and folders that sat strewn on his desk showed the many sleepless nights spent researching all things Zim. He knew enough about the Irkens to earn him the title of paranormal investigator – no matter how much this made the other kids laugh. It had been years since he first met the alien, and years of research and careful notes had given him much to go on.

He knew, for example, that the Irken bodies are merely vessels to carry their PAKs around. He knew that Zim’s eyes were synthetic implants to aid his mind, though he did not know exactly how Zim saw the world. He knew that Irkens judged power based on height and that Zim clearly did not compare. The alien stood a full foot and a half below Dib - who’s growth spurt served to fuel the rivalry between the two. Dib did not know that despite the test-tube births of all Irkens, the aliens still had a sexual drive.

Irken mating was not what Dib had been showed his whole life in movies and in text. It was not the loving, romantic and intimately played out kisses in the rain and the cuddles by the fireplace. Irkens were different – Zim was different. And Dib would find that out in the dead of night, when everyone had gone to bed except for the outcast teenager.

Dib sat at his desk. The clock ticked away, displaying a constantly changing minute that revoled around a stationary 1am. He wrote notes and occasionally glanced up at his computer screen that showed Irken lettering that scrolled by slowly. The headphones in his ears played the faint background noise of last week’s Mysterious Mysteries of Strange Mystery while the TV with it’s corresponding images sat forgotten on the corner. He was so wrapped up in his work that he did not notice his small bedroom window creak open.

Zim’s spider-legs came through first before anchoring themselves on Dib’s bed and pulling the tucked alien through. Landing silently on the floor behind Dib, he let his eyes adjust to the darkness. He focused first on the rapidly-changing images on Dib’s TV, and then onto the Irken lettering on the monitor, and then onto Dib.

The Irken lettering on the monitor?

Silently he stood and read fluently. It was moving too slow for him and quite possibly for Dib as well – who had been more than able to read it for a few years. Zim read and recognized the words as words that made up his latest grand scheme. Dib had his latest grand scheme. Zim extended a tightly-gloved hand and flicked off the monitor, causing Dib to spin around in disgust.

“Zim,” came the hostile whisper. He knew that nobody else was home but he did not want to wake the neighbourhood.

“Stink-beast.”

Zim stood confident and as tall as he could, his hands folded into each other behind his curved back.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’ve come to see what the Dib has been up to.”

“None of your concern,” Dib reiterated, slapping his notebook shut.

“You’re LYING!”

Dib slapped his hand over Zim’s mouth, bringing a bony finger up to his own as he shushed the screaming Irken. Zim’s eyes narrowed as he stared up at Dib in disgust and insult. He took great offence to being silenced and even greater to being silenced by Dib. Lanky legs had stepped back and carried Zim with them. Sternly staring, Dib kept his eyes locked to Zim’s and he challenged the alien to try anything more.

Quieter, Zim continued. “I am here for personal reasons,” he said with a wave of his hand. “And I will succeed in my plan.”

Dib turned to the monitor again, remembering the ramblings of explosions and enslavement.

“Not those plans, though now they will have to be scrapped no thanks to the Dib-smelly.”

Turning back, Dib was now confused. He took his glasses off, placing them on the table beside his bed. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes and sighing.

“I’m tired, Zim. Can we play chase or whatever tomorrow?”

“Silence!” came the cry, Dib snapping back to the now-blurred Irken.

Zim had spent many months after realizing what he felt trying to suppress those feelings. Irkens, though still sexually driven, were only supposed to be driven towards other Irkens. Specifically successful and prodigious Irkens so that the gene pool was as best as it could be. But Dib had everything an Irken would dream of – he was intelligent and driven. Not to mention incredibly tall.

“Zim is here for you, human.”

“Never!” Dib had given up on being silent. “I’m not going to be the subject of some stupid autopsy or whatever.”

Zim could only laugh. He grabbed Dib’s wrist and with practiced grace swung him to the bed that was behind them.

“Do not invoke the wrath of the Irken elite,” cooed the alien. “That woud be quite… stupid of you.”

Dib cocked his head. He was not sure whether he should laugh or escape. Being in an absent-minded stupor let Zim gain valuable time to get his spider-legs to pin Dib down. Zim may have not been the strongest Irken, but any PAK was a fit rival for a human. Dib squirmed in agony, it was an uncomfortable position. Having the advantage, however, Zim took the time to remove his gloves and place them neatly on the nightstand. He wiggled his three fingers, admiring the sharp claws.

“Zim, whatever’s going on I need you to let me go. We can fight tomorrow, okay?”

All Dib could do was freak out. He always tried to appear calm and collected around Zim, showing the alien just how superior he was. But reality was a cruel monster and Irkens clearly had the technology to make up for their lack of physique. Dragging a claw down the side of Dib’s neck, Zim spoke surprisingly softly.

“I have done research.”

Cringing away from the claw, Dib snarled.

“What research?”

“I believe the human equivalent is… love.”

Dib nearly chocked on his own spit. He would be lying if he hadn’t thought about Zim in that way, and it would be a bigger lie if the other skool children didn’t already think they were a couple. But at the same time, hearing it spoken out loud was jarring. It felt foreign and it danced under Dib’s skin like a parasite.

“I love the Dib-human, and the Dib-human will be mine.”

Irken love was not human love. It was harsh and angular, sharp and unforgiving. If an Irken wanted something, they took it by force (as showed by their invader status). Zim was going to have Dib. Zim liked Dib, and Dib was going to belong to him.

“Zim, please,” begging would get him nowhere.

“I have read your journals, human. I know that you love Zim too. And you like to hit Zim.”

“Zim, hitting has nothing to do with love,”

“Ehn?” Zim was confused, dumbfounded. “Of course it does! You speak lies, LIES!”

A quick slap to the face and Dib was effectively silenced. Love was supposed to be cuddles and kisses, not scratches and hitting. Irken teeth were not sharp, but when they bit into the soft flesh of Dib’s neck it was pinching. The intimidating way that filed Irken claws dragged down Dib’s toned chest drew small beads of blood. No matter Dib’s squirming and confusion, Zim would not be gentle or caring. Though his actions were actions of hate, his mind was filled with love and devotion.

The few hours it took left Dib a tired, drooling, bliss-filled mess. It was strange and unconventional but the whole evening felt right, like every fight and scream and insult had all been leading up to this. When Irkens love someone, they were going to have them. Dib would have scars forever now, a constant reminder that he belonged to Zim. He would never understand but he would never complain and never deny Zim. If this really was Irken love, he would take it without a single complaint.


End file.
